


Manhood

by earlgreymanatee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drinking, Lesbian Character, Multi, Non-Penetrative Sex, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 08:13:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7307041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreymanatee/pseuds/earlgreymanatee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asha opens Theon's eyes up to the fact that one does not need a cock to please a woman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Manhood

They were stopped at one last port city before setting off across the Narrow Sea. They had already seen to the necessaries of stocking up on food and supplies earlier that day; all the business attended to, and they were as ready as they would ever be, prepared to set sail early the next morning.

Because it was the last night before a voyage, they were of course spending it in a tavern. Most of the men were trying take advantage of the last time they would see a woman, or a woman who was not Asha, for a couple weeks at the least, maybe more (who knew what Essos held for them, how this Queen who they had never met would receive them.)

Asha sat at the back of the tavern, surveying her men. Most were getting far too drunk, making fools of themselves trying to flirt with tavern wenches, who skillfully tolerated the men’s antics in the hope of making some coin that night. It was to be expected though, it was what men did: make fools of themselves in front of women. Except for him.

Theon sat next to his sister, every muscle clenched, staring silently into his drink. He could barely stand it, being in taverns like this. Asha insisted on it, said it was good for the men. He could not stand knowing that every man who didn’t pass out drunk that night was going to have a woman. It reminded him of what had happened to him, what he had lost. 

Asha glanced at him.

“Are you going to stare into your ale all night? Or are you going to find a pretty girl to fuck on your last night in Westeros?”

Was she mocking him, he wondered? She had seen it, his cock, cut from his body and sent to his father. There was a time he would have been angry at her for mocking him so, but he could barely feel anger anymore, just embarrassment, shame, and fear. His vision blurred as his eyes filled with tears, and he turned back to staring at his cup.

She leaned back in her chair.

“I am serious, this room is full of whores and young, drunk women who are looking for a lover to pine for from across the sea. Some of them are even pretty,” she said as she looked around the room.

Theon stared at her. She did not seem to be joking, but then again, it could be hard to tell what game his sister was playing at any given moment. 

“I can’t. I don’t…I’m not a man anymore,” he managed to mutter.

She laughed in a short, ugly bark.

He knew it, of course she was mocking him. She had just wanted to hear him say it, admit to not being a man anymore.

“Oh, sweet brother, neither am I a man, but I have fucked plenty of women and I’ll fuck many more. I haven’t a cock. But what do you think I do, when I bed a girl? Embrace her and whisper sweet nothings? No. I fuck them.”

He had to admit, he had never thought about the particulars of what his sister did when she talked about fucking girls. 

“I...haven’t an idea, actually.”

She shook her head.

“Men think fucking a woman is all about their cocks. That is exactly why all the prettiest girls always come running to me. I’ve got no cock to distract me, get in the way. No, I know how to really fuck a woman, make her scream my name and grip the bed and forget all her lovers before me.”

Theon tried to summon a mental image of what fucking without a cock would look like. Sure, before, when he had been a man, he had known there were things men could do to excite a woman, but none of those things were truly fucking. To fuck a woman you needed a cock. Or so he had always thought. But his sister was right, pretty girls did throw themselves at her. Even in a room full of sailors, strong men, trained in battle, they gravitated towards her. She had a swagger about her that suggested she could fuck them as well as she claimed.

“Do you fuck them…with a fake cock?” he asked cautiously. He did not like the idea. It would be too much a reminder of what fucking used to mean to him.

“Dear brother, I am offended! I am Ironborn! We have never been ones to require fancy baubles and trinkets to get a job done. Maybe you have forgotten yourself, asking your kind sister such a question,” she teased playfully. She was getting quite drunk, Theon noticed.

“So, how do you? Or I suppose, how could I, you know, fuck a girl,” he asked nervously.

She drained her ale and turned to him. She reached out to touch his face and he flinched instinctively, but did not pull away. She reached her hand up to his chin and pulled it down, opening his mouth. She peered into it, as if inspecting a horse.

“Still have your tongue, I see. A strong start. You can use that. You have you left some fingers under those gloves, yes?”

He nodded.

“Yes. Well, some of them.”

“Well, I suppose that’s really all you need, then. That’s all I’ve ever needed certainly. Find the prettiest girl in any tavern in all of the Seven Kingdoms, she will tell you: it’s the strong women who know how to really fuck them. And we do it with our mouths and fingers. And hands, occasionally. Won’t put a bastard in them either,” she nodded, as if drunkenly agreeing with herself as she spoke.

Abruptly, she pushed herself up to standing against the table.

“I’m going to go piss out back. If the blonde with the long legs that has been making eyes at me all night comes over, tell her I will be right back,” she said, glancing to the other side of the room, before making her way to the door. 

Theon turned to where she had been looking. A tall, slender woman with bright blonde hair who was leaning against the wall blushed and turned to whisper something to a petite redheaded woman she was standing next to. They both giggled, then started walking towards Theon. He began to panic instinctively.

“Hello Ser, we were just wondering if your friend, the woman you were with, is coming back? I so very much wished to, um, speak with her,” the blonde woman asked drunkenly, giggling as she did. 

Theon took a deep breath to calm himself.

“Oh yes, my sister, she will be back in a just a moment,” he got out, yet not managing to look directly at either of them.

They both giggled delightedly. The redheaded woman took a step closer to Theon.

“My friend, she thinks to run off with your sister for the evening,” she pouted, “and leave me all alone, without company, all night. And you see, all your men seem quite strong and rough, and I am quite delicate. But you, you seem of a more noble sort, highborn even. I much prefer a man with charm to a man with brute strength.”

Theon gripped the table, he wanted to tell her to leave, that he did not have what she desired, that it would only lead to pity. But he thought about what his sister had just said. Perhaps there was some truth in it. He could not imagine the average tavern wench truly wanted to risk getting a bastard in her belly, or at the least, have to deal with the several bloody days that resulted from moon tea.

He imagined himself groping her chest, lifting her skirts to put his mouth and fingers on and in the hot wetness between her legs, pleasing her, seeming galant for craving nothing of his own.

“No, my lady,” he imagined himself saying, if she reached for his cock, “you see I believe it is right to satisfy a lady and think not of my own pleasure. Women suffer so much at the hands of men, don’t you think? Surely a lady can enjoy herself for an evening without a man sweating and grunting on top of her, trying to take his own pleasure?” 

She would probably think him so noble. The thought of touching her, delighting her, stirred….something in him. Though he had no manhood he still felt a desire in the bottom of his belly, a strange and new, but not unwanted, sensation. He longed for any touch that did not end in pain.

“My lady,” he said, turning to look at her, at last, “it is so funny that your friend should want to leave you alone, as I also will not have any companionship for the evening, once my sister joins her. Perhaps...we may enjoy one another’s company?”

She giggled and sat down on his thigh and leaned over, pressing her bosom against him. He felt the strange new desire in the bottom of his belly stir once again.

He leaned over and drained his cup to gain some courage for the evening. Perhaps he would never truly feel himself a man again, but he could possibly begin to feel himself human again.


End file.
